26/10/2025
I stopped before a window with no view, only the flickering reflection of a city that seemed to be thinking itself. There was something in the air —a faint vibration, an ancient pulse— urging me to move on. I crossed the street; the traffic lights blinked as if uncertain of their own purpose. In the glass of a closed shop, I saw your face blended with mine; for a moment, I thought I understood the meaning of returning. But then the reflection smiled first, before I did. And I knew —with an absurd calm— that perhaps it had long been me who lived on the other side of the glass.
